Earning Her Life
by LostinOblivion
Summary: As promised, the long awaited sequel to 'Patience'. Emily's begun to awake from her coma, but easier said than done. Finished!
1. Chapter 1

Matt Flannery sat with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, and stubble thicker than just a five o'clock shadow on his face. He'd past his thirty-sixth hour in the hospital a few hours earlier, but was still as determined as ever not to leave. He couldn't walk out of that hospital while Emily was blinking her beautiful eyes awake every few hours.

So far, that was all she'd done. Her eyelashes would flutter, her eyelids peel slowly away from her blue-grey eyes. She'd lay there awake for a few seconds, a few minutes, it was getting longer each time she came to. And, every time she woke up, he'd been right beside her, holding her hand, and encouraging her to stay awake just a little longer this time.

Her doctor insisted it was good, even though she wasn't moving, wasn't saying anything, this was good. She'd get a little of herself back each time she opened her eyes, and eventually, with any luck, Emily would be walking and talking. At least, that was the doctor's hope. It all depended on the severity of the brain damage. Three years unconscious is bad, but waking up was a good sign that maybe, she was healing.

Their friends had come by yesterday when he first called, and waited around with him a while before resuming their lives. They all had work to go to, but Cheryl put Matt on leave for a while. They'd broken the good news to the CNU and HRT, and at first everyone was just too stunned to really feel anything. Then they all wanted to know about Matt.

Was he there when she woke up the first time? Was he alright? He must be thrilled and terrified all at once? How was he holding up?

They assured all their colleagues that Matt was there when Emily opened her eyes the first time, and that he was holding himself together pretty well. He'd been bizarrely calm when they got to the hospital. Emily had already closed her eyes again, so he was simply sitting, holding her hand, staring at nothing in particular. The doctor had told him, she might not open her eyes again, but for the first time in three years, Matt had a little hope.

That's how'd he'd gotten through the last forty hours. After three years of nothing, her blinking awake regularly was enough hope to get him through a lifetime, maybe two. It was certainly enough to get him through the next few critical days.

According to the doctor, when she tried to speak or move, was crucial to determining how badly her brain was damaged. Sooner was better than later, and actually moving or making a word would be amazing so far as her doctor was concerned. He'd warned Matt, that even though Emily blinking awake was good news, that she'd been out for three years, that already pointed to a pretty severe brain injury.

Dr. Edwin, Emily's neurologist for the last three years, was very careful to keep Matt grounded in reality. Truth was, if Emily became completely awake, she wasn't going to be the same woman, not at first. She would have to relearn to talk, to eat, to walk, brush her hair, wash her teeth, use the bathroom, everything. She might pick it all up, and grow into herself again, or she could struggle to find and make words the rest of her life. It's possible she suffered some paralysis, and maybe she'd walk with a limp, or maybe she'd never hold a gun again.

Worst case scenario; Emily's eyes would open, and that would be it. She wouldn't smile, talk or move, but just lay there, completely non-responsive. Dr. Edwin referred to it as a persistent vegetative state. Her eyes would be open staring up at the world, and that would be it.

Only Matt knew that wasn't the case. He'd seen it when Emily opened her eyes the first time, and every time after, what he'd never be able to explain to the doctor. He'd seen her there in her blue-grey eyes, the same as he'd seen her years ago, before she'd fallen and closed her eyes for a three-year long nap. Matt didn't know what would happen when she finally tried to speak, or move, but he knew she would. Emily wasn't going to wake-up a vegetable, he was as sure of that as he was his own name.

"Hey, you look tired." Lia's voice startled Matt into jumping.

"I haven't slept, I don't want her to wake-up and me not be there," he said.

"How long were her eyes open the last time?" Lia sat down beside him.

"About seven and a half minutes. Edwin says she's doing good, especially after three years."

"I agree. I still can't believe she's actually waking up, after all this time."

Matt nodded thoughtfully. Truthfully, he'd doubted she'd ever wake-up too. He shouldn't have underestimated the determination of this Princess from Princeton.

"Work's been crazy, yesterday, today. The energy there, you'd think it was days before Christmas. Everybody's just buzzing," Lia said.

"Better than Christmas, Lia. Way better than Christmas."

Lia smiled, before her face quickly changed, and she slapped a hand over her own mouth. She took off toward the ladies room.

Matt cringed watching her. Apparently her morning sickness was already striking with full force. Baby Gonzalez wasn't going to make the pregnancy easy on her.

Poor Lia.

* * *

Hours later, Matt was back inside Emily's room again, reading to her. Lia had gone back to work, still looking a teeny bit green. It seemed that her morning sickness was any old times it felt like it sickness. She'd get used to it, along with all their coworkers, or at least, they'd get used to her running to the bathroom.

"So, the jury did find the guy not guilty, citing the supposed injury to his frontal lope. His reasoning centers damaged as were his emotion control centers. So, he couldn't control his emotions in the store, and he relied on bad reasoning, that's why he took five people hostage. That's bullshit. They all rely on bad reasoning, and none of them are in control of their emotions, that's why they snap. I know you love this shrink stuff, Em, but this is just wrong." Matt shook his head, and closed the psychology journal.

He'd kept Emily's subscription active, going to his apartment, so he could keep her updated. She always liked to know what was going on in her field, especially important legal decisions. This was just a dumb jury, though this defense wasn't nearly as bad as the Twinkie defense. That was awful.

"Oh, Cheryl was telling me that Temple and Binder got a good one the other day. Guy in his early thirties, took five hostage in a cable car going up a mountainside, you know the sight-seeing thing? Well, this guy was convinced he'd been abducted by little green men. Every couple of years since he was twenty-five, they'd come for him.

So, right off the bat, their thinking paranoid-delusional, possibly schizophrenic, definitely off his meds. This guy keeps ranting, and go on and on about all the wacky tests they've done to him. He wasn't anally probed though, Frank was disappointed about that. According to this HT, the last time the aliens took him, they impregnated him with an alien-human hybrid fetus." Matt laughed lightly at the idea.

"Binder is talking to the guy, trying to explain to him that he can't be pregnant, because he doesn't have a uterus. HT swears they 'engineered' him with one over the years. He's freaking out because he doesn't want to be mommy to an alien baby, so Binder promises if he gives up, they'll make sure he gets a pregnancy test. HT starts screaming that he doesn't need a test, he already knows he's pregnant.

Now, Cheryl's standing there listening, laughing so hard she can barely stand. Half of HRT isn't paying attention, because they just can't control themselves. Temple and Binder have no idea what to do with this guy, they were wishing you were there to give them a little help. God, I wouldn't have known what to do. But, finally, Binder pretends to schedule an emergency abortion, and that's what brings the guy in. He drops the gun, releases the hostages, and allows the FBI to take him into custody so he can get an abortion."

"When they came in to see you yesterday, they were all still laughing." Matt smiled and placed a kiss to her palm, holding it against his face. He was sleepy, after so long at the hospital, he couldn't not be. He let his head rest on the bed by hers; he'd rest just for a few minutes. At least that was what he intended, instead he drifted off to sleep, still holding Emily's hand in his.

Frank and Cheryl came in about an hour later to find Matt asleep beside Emily. Lia's morning sickness was hitting bad, so Duff had taken her home to relax, and hopefully get a few minutes without vomiting. He told Frank to give them a call if Emily started talking or moving. Rather than wake Matt, Cheryl and Frank retreated to the family room a few doors down, and talked quietly for a while. Matt was still asleep at 8:30, so Cheryl instructed Frank to go home to his wife and step-kids, and said she'd take care of Matt.

They were all a little worried about him. What if Emily woke-up a vegetable? What if she suddenly stopped waking up? What if she woke up and didn't remember anything? What if the brain-damage was so severe she could barely function? They were afraid any one of those outcomes would just destroy Matt. He'd waited for her three years, and now that she was blinking her eyes every so often, he'd believed it had been the right decision. He believed he'd be with her again, and god knew, he was counting on it. What if he couldn't be with her again?

Cheryl was afraid he'd be so upset, he'd just give up completely. No, she didn't think he'd overtly hurt himself, but there are more subtle ways that his subconscious can develop to hurt him. He'd been devastated when Emily had fallen and become comatose, moping around, completely heartbroken. It was only after he'd started visiting her everyday that the tortured look in his eyes had begun softening. So, maybe it wasn't healthy for him to go on thinking he had a relationship with a comatose woman, but it was better than him looking so pained. Cheryl was afraid he couldn't handle that kind of devastation twice, he'd barely handled it once.

With that in mind, Cheryl slipped quietly into the familiar room, and got comfortable in a chair by door. When Matt woke up, she was dragging him out of the hospital and sending him home; it was for his own good, and just for the night. He could come back in the morning. Cheryl picked up the psych journal Matt brought, and was immediately engrossed in a case.

Matt blinked awake twenty minutes later, feeling eyes watching him. They weren't Cheryl's eyes though, they were Emily's. He started when he saw her watching him, and she was actually watching him. There was life and intelligence in her eyes, he saw it now, clear as day. Matt felt her hand tighten around his, and his heart began to pound. He squeezed her hand back, still staring into her eyes, trying to tell her that he knew she was in there. He hadn't given up yet, and he didn't plan to anytime soon.

Her mouth began to move, opening a little bit, as stiffly as it had earlier. She struggled to move it, clearly she wanted to make a word, but easier said than done after a three-year long coma. As she struggled, she gripped his hand harder, and Matt let his thumb rub back and forth across her hand, trying to sooth her. She managed a soft groan, of release or frustration, he couldn't tell. Still, she'd made a sound.

Matt heard movement, and turned, Cheryl had walked to the foot of the bed, and was watching Emily try desperately to speak. Her eyes were wide, and lips parted slightly, as if she were mesmerized. Maybe she was. He turned back just in time to see Emily finally manage a word.

"Matt…" She almost breathed it out, and the tension visible in her body finally eased. She lay breathing deeply, as if that one little word had been very difficult.

Matt brought her hand to his mouth, kissing it. Tears had already formed in his eyes.

* * *

_I know it took a while, but I delivered as promised. Thank you everyone for your patience, and thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

It was the look in her eyes that was killing him. That look that said she was hopeless and miserable, and would have rather just died. It was largely that look though, that told him Emily was still Emily, even with a brain injury. Everything else he saw of her wasn't the Emily he'd fallen in love with.

She was needy and hysterical half the time, and the other half she was brooding and quiet. She was angry that she needed so much help, that moving and speaking were suddenly so hard. She was embarrassed that she couldn't feed herself without making a mess, and that she couldn't use the bathroom without help, among other things. They'd fed her baby food the first few days, because she couldn't move well enough to feed herself or even chew anything.

Whenever she failed to be able to something, she would get upset and cry. She seemed to want, even need, Matt around all the time, but that she couldn't do certain things, was more embarrassing in front of him. That meant she didn't want him there a lot, and she'd often be very torn between telling him to stay or go. Still, if he was around, which he usually was, he'd squeeze her hand, and whisper to her that it would get better. He would also constantly promise her that he wouldn't leave, an insecurity she seemed to have developed.

Behind all that were her eyes, and that look that felt like he was taking a fist to the gut. She didn't like what she'd become, she didn't like that she needed help with everything, and she didn't like that she was so dependent on him.

Emily was fiercely independent, and very self-reliant. Her parents had become distant when she was still very young, she'd had very few friends, and because of that, she's learned to care of herself. Her education, her career; she'd gained high success in both through her own talents, and persistence. She'd pushed her way to the top of a man's field, and now what was she? It was that tenacious, stubborn woman that peered out through that look. It was his Emily looking at what she'd become, that she was back literally at square one, and being very angry and depressed about it.

She wore that look now as tears ran down her face. He'd come in minutes ago to find her like that; she wasn't hysterically sobbing, so that was a nice change.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, sitting beside her. He reached for her hand, but she pulled it back. It was a good sign any minute now, she was going to tell him to leave.

"I need...need..." She faltered and searched for the word. It was so hard to find it, and she knew she'd used it before, but she just couldn't think of it.

"A thing or a person?" He'd gotten used to this, and knew what to say by now.

"Person."

"Doctor?"

"No," Emily said, shaking her head.

"Nurse?"

"Yes, a nurse," she nodded, her tears coming faster, because she couldn't think of that one simple word.

"It's okay, Em. It's going to take time," he assured her. He went to take her hand, but remembered she'd pulled away once, and pulled his hand back.

"Okay, I'll go find you a nurse," he told her, walking out while tears continued to pour from her eyes.

A nurse appeared in Emily's room moments later, just as Matt promised. He wasn't with the nurse; after three days, he'd gotten to know Emily's moods, and knew she didn't want him there now. He go back in when the nurse was done.

"What's wrong sweetie?" Cathy, a fairly heavy-set woman in her fifties asked cheerfully. Cathy was a very nice woman, one of Emily's favorites of the nurses, because she made her feel like less of a failure.

"I...I...the bed...it's...uh...wet," Emily struggled out what she needed to say.

"Oh, well then, we'll have to fix that," she said, still cheerfully.

Emily began to cry harder. Cathy knew what she meant. Emily still had trouble moving, and couldn't walk without help, so without anyone around at that moment to help her, she'd wet the bed. It wasn't the first time, and it may not be the last, and that bothered her a lot.

"Oh honey, it isn't that bad," Cathy tried to tell her, though it didn't help. "How about this, you want to take a bath? A nice warm bath, help you relax?"

Emily thought about it a minute, and nodded. That did sound really good.

"Alright, I'll help you to the bathroom, and you can sponge yourself and get into that bathing suit your friend brought. But you be sure to let me know if you need help," she told Emily, giving her a stern look. She knew her patient didn't like asking for help.

Emily nodded again, and let Cathy pull back the sheet, and help her up. The bottom of her pajamas were soaked, but Cathy pretended not to notice as she put an arm around the younger woman's waist and let her lean on her. Slowly, they maneuvered toward the bathroom, and all things considered, Emily did pretty well. Her movements were stiff and slow, but she was still walking.

* * *

The bath water was getting a little cool, and Emily was beginning to wonder where the orderly had gotten too. She was sitting in the jacuzzi tub the center kept to help loosen patients muscles, and let them soak after intense physical therapy. There were a few rooms with tubs, so that patients could have privacy. It was nice since they got so little elsewhere. Emily was beginning to wonder if they'd forgotten about her though.

She used a hand and smoothed out the tankini Lia had bought her yesterday. The doctor had told her some of her physical therapy would be in the pool, and Emily had immediately wondered if she had a bathing suit. Matt had told her he kept her clothes, and she had a few bikinis, but no regular suits. She'd raised her eyebrows at that; Matt had just smiled and said he hadn't minded. But she told Lia her predicament (physical therapy in a bikini?), and she'd assured her she help her out.

Lia came through with stylish and tasteful tankini, and Emily was extremely grateful. She wondered if she'd asked Matt to get her one, what he would have come back with, but figured it was best not to know.

There was a gentle knock at the door, and Emily was relieved. The water wasn't even lukewarm now.

"Come in," she called, only to be surprised when it was Matt, not one of the orderlies.

"Hey, everyone's busy with Tony; he's freaking out again." Tony was a mild-mannered geography teacher a week ago, before he was in a very bad car accident. He came in with what they thought was minor brain damage, but then became angry, violent and aggressive two days ago.

"Oh," Emily simply said.

"I just know you've been in here a while, I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Water's getting cold."

"Uh well, if you're okay with it, I can help you get out, and back to your room?" Matt offered. If felt a little weird to him, because he was treating her as if she were a stranger, not the woman he'd slept beside almost every night for a year.

"Yeah, thanks," Emily smiled gratefully, though awkwardly.

She knew who Matt was to her, she remembered him of course. But she didn't feel anything about him, he felt like a stranger, as did all their friends. It wasn't amnesia of any sort, because logically she knew who everyone was, remembered times with them. She didn't feel anything though. Her brain was so busy trying relearning all the physical things, and all the intellectual things that she wasn't herself. She had to gain back the basic stuff before she'd get herself back. So, right now, they were all strangers to her.

That's why Matt hadn't touched her more than holding her hand yet. Even though he could see his Emily in her eyes, he also saw she wasn't entirely comfortable with him. She wasn't completely comfortable with anyone. Emily had always been very careful, weary almost, or people, and now that her head was all jumbled, she seemed even more so.

Matt knelt down beside her. "So, put your arms around me neck. I'm going to hold your waist, and we'll get up together, okay?"

Emily nodded, and wrapped her arms around his neck, and it brought her body out of the water enough so Matt didn't have to go into the water to grab her hips. He began to rise slowly, and Emily pushed up as much as she could. Once they were standing, Matt simply lifted her out of the tub, and set her on the bathmat. He let her lean against him as he grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around her.

Emily stayed resting against him, her face pressed to his neck, arms still holding him. She closed her eyes and let a feeling she couldn't explain wash over her. This was familiar, being in Matt's arms was familiar to her, and she liked it. She knew the person she was before the accident liked it, and she knew whoever she was now liked it too. It was safe and warm, and he loved her even how she was now.

"Alright, why don't you sit here on the edge while I go find a wheelchair?" Matt suggested once he'd helped her towel off, and slip into her robe.

"No, I want to walk," she told him.

"Are you sure, Em? Your room isn't very close."

"I know, but I can do it." Her face took on that determined certainty that was pure Emily. It was the same look she got when figured out exactly what they needed to do to talk down an HT, and she was going to do it.

"Okay, just tell me what you need," he said. Matt knew better than to argue with that look.

"Put your arm around my waist and walk with me," she instructed.

Matt secured his arm around her, and let her wrap an arm around his shoulders. Matt wasn't much taller than her, so it wasn't uncomfortable. They started out with slow small steps, so Emily could get into the rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other. The hot bath had loosened her muscles, and it made moving her body a little easier.

It was her new-found resolve that really helped that, the pushed her to do better than she had. The trip back to her room took twenty minutes, when for Matt alone it would have taken maybe ten. But Emily walked, really walked during it. Halfway through her strides were strong enough that she asked Matt to let her go. She walked with her hand on clutching his arm, and sweat beading her face. She wasn't really leaning on him, she wasn't shuffling along, but she was standing on her own two feet.

When she got back to her bed she collapsed in exhaustion, fell asleep quickly, and slept through lunch.

But before she fell asleep, she smiled.

For the first time in over three years, Matt saw Emily's dimples, and he smiled too.

* * *

_Barring a little research, I know very little about brain injury, so bare with me. I'm aware she's progressing fast, but well, it's fiction. If I can create miracles, why not? Anyway, thanks for reading, and thanks to those who reviewed!_


	3. Chapter 3

"What are those?" Emily asked, as Matt entered her room, colorful cardboard boxes in his hands.

"Scrabble, Boggle, Trivial Pursuit, and a deck of cards," he announced happily, setting them on the table beside the bed.

It had been six days since she walked that first time without leaning on anyone, and she was doing much better. She was walking pretty easily now, though she was a little stiff, and her vocabulary had vastly improved. She also had less trouble with full sentences, and finding the word she wanted. Her doctor was beyond thrilled with her progess, and often gave her this wide-eyed grin of pride.

"Okay..." She drew it out in a question.

"You told me yesterday that if you could, you still wanted to be a negotiator, right?" Last night they'd had a long talk about long term plans, one of Emily's current fears. She wasn't completely herself yet, but she knew she'd loved negotiating, and was afraid they wouldn't let her do it again.

"Are you saying I can be a negotiator again by playing scrabble?"

"No, I'm saying here's fun way to improve your basic skills, then we can move onto actual negotiation skills," Matt explained.

"Matt, you know I may never--never get better...completely, right?" Emily asked nervously, struggling on a little with the sentence.

"I know, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't do everything we can to help you get there," he said.

"But are you actually okay with that, Matt?" She paused, forming the next sentence in her head, hoping it came out as smoothly, but knowing it probably wouldn't. She was getting emotional, like she did so easily now, it drove her crazy. "If I need help with, with, with things, the rest of my life, you won't...uh, um...resent me?"

"No, I'll be the one helping you," he said, squeezing her hand as he watched her battle tears. She was doing a lot better, but she still cried easily.

She lost in the end, at the thought that she'd need to be helped the rest of her life. Tears began to run quietly from her eyes, even as she tried to wipe them away. Matt leaned close and let her fall into his arms.

"How about this, we ditch the games for today and I get the doctor to let me take you out of here for a day," Matt suggested, rubbing her back. God knows she could use a day out of the hospital.

"I can't, physical therapy in an hour," she said, her voice thick with her tears.

"But, it's a Saturday?"

"I see one of the, the--movement therapists everyday, even weekends. Speech therapist and the shrink only during the week."

"Oh, okay. Well, do they have you seeing someone this afternoon?" Matt asked, knowing her appointments usually were both in the morning and afternoon for all the therapists she was seeing.

"No, I get the afternoon off."

"Then we can play with these until you go to therapy, and after lunch we'll go and see a movie or something?"

"You really think they'll let me out?" Emily wondered, hopeful and doubtful at the same time.

"I'm a negotiator, remember? I'll get the doctor to let me take you out for the afternoon," Matt promised.

She finally pulled back from him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, what would you like to play?" He gestured to the colorful boxes.

* * *

"What's the big deal. Dr. Edwin? It's an afternoon out, it will be good for her," Matt pressed the doctor, who was giving him a hard time about letting Emily leave the hospital. Half the nursing staff was at their station nearby, pretending not to listen.

"I'm just not sure she's ready, Matt. She only woke up eleven days ago," Edwin insisted.

"And you said yourself, her progress is amazing, beyond what you expected at this stage."

"Physically, intellectually yes, but emotionally she still gets upset easily," the doctor said.

"If she gets upset, I'll be there to calm her down, and we'll come right back here if it's too much for her," Matt responded.

"It's just that she's still very fragile right now, and sometimes I think you forget that, Matt."

"I don't forget it. Truth is, I know that better than you do. I knew her before this doctor, and know what parts of her have changed. I also know the ones that haven't. Emily is a fighter, but independent as hell. If you take that away from her, she'll get depressed again, and she might stop fighting. I don't want her to stop fighting, Dr. Edwin."

The doctor looked at Matt for a long time, studying the man before him, who cared so deeply for his patient. Finally, he relented with a sigh.

"You must be very good at your job, Matt."

"One of the best," he answered.

"You can take Emily after she has lunch. I know she hates the wheelchair and the walker, but I still want her to take a cane. Make sure she uses it, I don't want her straining herself. Make sure she eats dinner, and rests regularly; don't let her overdo it. Keep in mind that she is still fragile, Matt, no matter how much she'd like not to believe that herself. Are we clear?" Edwin scrutinized him.

"Yes, sir," Matt promised.

"Good...oh, and have her back by ten," he warned.

"Will do." Matt nodded. Matt hadn't been told when to have a girl back home since high school, it was almost amusing. Of course, it would piss Emily off that she had a curfew.

* * *

"No zombies?" Emily teased as the credits started to roll on the drama they'd just seen.

"I told you it wasn't a zombie movie," Matt insisted, watching people shuffle out around them. They'd wait until the audience dispersed, and then they'd go, so Emily wouldn't be rushed out.

"It was a good movie, thanks," she smiled happily.

"I'm glad you liked it, considering there's not much at the box office in the summer; all sequels and comic book movies."

"I thought they would have..." Emily paused trying to find the word she wanted, "moved on from that."

"Not yet, they'll milk it for all it's worth," he said, helping Emily up from her chair.

He held her gently around the waist, and handed her, her cane, which was shining metal hospital style, with a base and four little feet for extra stability. He let her hold his arm as they went up the aisle, long since vacated by the rest of the viewers. The only people to stare were two ushers waiting to clean up, and they tried to be polite, and simply smiled as the couple walked out. It was a slow walk that continued into the lobby, and out to LA's busy streets.

"There's a park nearby, you want to go there for a bit before we get dinner?" Matt asked.

"Sounds nice," Emily smiled. She wouldn't able to walk for too long in the park, but city parks have benches. They could sit and enjoy the atmosphere.

Matt led the way to a small park less than a block from the theatre, incidentally, why he chose the theatre. They could have a nice little walk, and he'd make sure she rested before they went back to the car.

They walked along a paved path, under trees that blocked most of the last rays of the sun. The grass was the impossibly vibrant green of manicured lawns in warm climates, and there was a large pond off one fork of the path. This is the one they chose to follow. Benches sat facing the pond, and the ducks who swam around the fountain in the center of it.

"I feel like an old lady," Emily mumbled, growing a little winded as they neared the pond.

"It'll get better, Em," he assured her seriously, before a flirtatious smile broke out on his face. "But until then, I can carry you if you get tired."

With that statement, Matt swept her up into his arms, and whisked her the four yards or so it was to the nearest bench.

"Matt! Put me down! I'm supposed to be walking," Emily insisted, though he arrived at the bench before she finished speaking.

"You can walk back to the car. A little break right now won't hurt you," he said sitting beside her.

"What exactly were Dr. Edwin's...instructions before he okayed this?" Emily asked, suspiciously.

"Let's just say if I bring you back with even a little muscle strain, my balls will end up in a jar on his desk," Matt said, cringing artfully.

Emily laughed, "did he say that, or...or are you guessing your...um, punishment?"

"Guessing, but the man was way too serious not to do something equally drastic," Matt said, recalling the doctor's serious face and stern tone.

"Well, thank you for um...uh...convincing him," she said finally getting it. She leaned her head toward his shoulder then, and Matt moved his arm around her, allowing Emily to cuddle next to him.

"My pleasure," he said softly. Her mouth twitched up in a smile at that.

* * *

Five hours later, they were in Matt's apartment, his bedroom specifically. Emily had been tired after the park, so they decided to just grab a pizza and eat at Matt's place. After they finished, Emily went to take a nap. It was only eight, so Matt didn't think it was a big deal, he had two hours to get her back. He checked on her after half an hour, and saw she was still wide-awake.

He'd asked her if she was alright, and she'd told him she was, that sometimes she had trouble sleeping, even when she was very tired. Her doctor had told her it was normal. So, Matt asked if there was anything he could do to help her. Emily asked him to lay with her, and explained that she liked when he held her, it was comforting. Without a thought, he'd kicked off his shoes, and lay beside her, wrapping his body around hers. They'd both fallen asleep like that.

Until now, when Matt was woken by a pounding on his door. He glanced at the clock long enough to see that it was midnight, cursed, and rushed for the door.

"Cheryl?" He asked bewildered.

"Jesus Matt, I've been calling for hours. Is Emily with you?" Cheryl certainly looked frenzied.

"Yeah, she's in the bedroom, why? Did the hospital call you?" Matt blinked his eyes, still adjusting to the light of his living room.

"Yes, the nurses are frantic, Matt! You were supposed to take Emily back two hours ago, what happened? Is she alright?"

"She's fine. We were tired, we fell asleep."

"After sex?" Cheryl gave him a disapproving look.

"No, christ Cheryl, give me a little credit, would you? She's not ready for that, and I wouldn't push her into it," Matt told her, upset that she'd think so little of him.

"I know you wouldn't, I'm sorry. It's just, no one knew where you were, we were all worried. The nurses wanted me to tell you that Dr. Edwin doesn't know yet, if you get her back ASAP, he won't have to. What does that mean?"

"If he found out I was two hours late getting her back, he'd never let me take her out of the hospital again. He'd be pissed. Either they don't want him pissed, or they want Emily to have a little freedom, either way, I'm happy." He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

"Matt?" A tired voice asked from behind him.

"Hey Em, the hospital called Cheryl. I'm late dropping you off," he said.

"Didn't turn into a pumpkin," she mumbled, sarcastically.

"No, I suppose not, but they still want you back," Cheryl said, amusement playing at her lips. Then she suddenly turned to Matt. "Why wasn't your phone on?"

"What? Oh, I turned it off for the movie, and I guess I forgot about it." He turned to Emily. "I'll get my shoes on and drive you back."

"I don't want to go back," she pouted.

"Well, you have to go back to get better," Matt told her.

"I know...let's go," Emily said, all the happiness she felt earlier deflating out of her.

"I'll make sure you can leave next weekend too, okay?" He tried.

Emily just nodded sadly, and went to retrieve her shoes. Matt turned to Cheryl, and all she could do was raise her eyebrows and hold up empty hands. It didn't surprise her Emily was getting tired of the hospital, not really. But, god knows, what she was going through now couldn't be easy.

They drove back to the hospital silently, mostly because Emily fell asleep in the car, her face turned toward Matt. She was still asleep when he parked, so Matt went to her door, and pulled her out into his arms. She stirred, but just nestled closer to him, as if she thought they were still cuddled together on the bed. The guard waved him right in, and Matt walked down to her room, where several angry nurses were waiting. They all softened when they saw him holding her tenderly in his arms. He laid her down gently on the bed, and pulled the blanket over her. Emily stirred briefly again, but didn't wake.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, and please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

"Matt, if I have to play one more game of Scrabble, Monopoly, or cards, I'm going to take you hostage," Emily groaned, watching Matt pull Scrabble out from the drawer.

They'd just finished their third game of rummy, and Emily was pretty sure her counting skills had survived the head injury. Her patience, on the other hand, had most definitely not.

"Now you see, that could be fun," Matt teased her, earning a smile.

It had been almost four weeks since she'd woken up and said his name. The first week had been a huge trial, and Emily was so emotional and depressed, he didn't even recognize her. Everything was hard for her. Moving, speaking, feeding herself, going to the bathroom; it had all been miserable, and when she had trouble with something she got so frustrated, she'd just cry.

Since that first day she'd walked without leaning heavily on someone, Emily had been doing much better. She'd gotten her confidence back, and now she was walking and talking almost as well as she'd been before the accident. Even her fine motor skills were improved enough that she could paint her nails, and apply her make-up without looking like a clown.

She still wasn't back to herself completely yet, though. She still tired quickly, and took naps during the day, and she was easily frustrated, and more surprisingly, still quite needy. At least where it came to Matt. She liked to have him around, and liked to he held by him. That didn't really bother him, Matt liked spending time with her, and liked having her in his arms, but it just served as a reminder to him that she wasn't completely herself yet. This wasn't the biggest problem though.

Emily's reasoning skills had suffered from the fall and hadn't really come back yet. This pretty much meant that all her psychology training was shot to hell. If someone explained something to her, it would make sense, but she couldn't reason it out for herself. Her lack of progress there had pretty much derailed any hope she had to still be a negotiator.

"Alright, alright. I have a new game we can try," Matt said.

"If it involves a board and tiny little pieces, you can forget it," Emily warned him.

"No, it doesn't. Just listen, okay?" He asked.

She nodded for him to continue, wondering what his new game was.

"Okay, so we get called out to this high school in the Valley. A thirteen year-old boy has a gun pointed at a classroom full of kids and his teacher. His names Joel, he comes from a good family, mom's a doctor, dad's a college professor, has an older sister and a younger brother. Parents say that haven't noticed anything off, teachers say he's been quieter lately. You're primary. I'll be the kid, what are you going to say to me?" Matt went over the scenario, typical for a negotiation, and waited for Emily to start.

"Uh, how are the hostages?" That much Emily could do, that's how they opened every negotiation with hostages.

"They're fine. I don't want to hurt anyone," Matt said, slipping into character.

"That's good to hear, how about you let some of them go then?" Emily asked, still too nervous to really fake negotiating.

"Uh, yeah, okay, sure. Hang on." Matt paused, pretended to put a phone done. "A half class worth of 12 and 13 year-olds run out the door."

"Okay, I gave you hostages," he continued, in character once again.

"Thanks, Joel. So, your classmates treat you pretty badly?" Emily asked, falling back on her experience, remembering what usually set school kids off.

"No, no, they're alright."

Emily sat and thought for a minute, trying to get her mind to make the connections she needed it to. Then she got frustrated. "I don't know, Matt. I don't know what else could be upsetting him."

"It's alright. You don't have to know yet. I know you're out of practice, but this is the negotiation part, ask him, try to see if he'll give it up," he encouraged her.

Emily nodded, still a little unhappily, but played along. "So Joel, how're things at home, with your parents?"

"My parents are fine. It's not my family, it's not my friends."

Emily thought again, and struggled not to get frustrated. "Then how about you tell me what's upsetting you?"

"I...I don't want to talk about it."

Emily had to think a while again, but this time, she just got frustrated. "I don't know Matt. If the kid won't tell me what's wrong I don't know how to help him," she said.

"Okay, it's alright."

"No, no it's not. I know I've been able to figure this out before. I know I knew what to say, I know I said it, but I just can't get there. My screwed up brain won't do what it's supposed to do," Emily railed, tears already forming in her eyes.

"Em, it's okay. I'm not expecting you to pick this right back up. It's going to take time. You did fine, okay?" He said, holding her gently, and looking into her eyes.

Emily nodded, but the tears still slipped from her eyes. She just wanted to be who she was again, she just wanted this nightmare to be over. Matt pulled her close, and let her cry out her frustrations.

* * *

"He tries very hard to help her," Dr. Edwin commented to Cheryl, as they stood by the door.

Cheryl had stopped when she heard them mock negotiating, and waited outside listening. She'd admit only to herself that she was a little disappointed Emily didn't do better with it. One of the Bureau's best minds couldn't even manage to figure out the HT's problem.

"Yes, he does...she can get better, right?" Cheryl asked, almost hesitantly.

"It's possible, but Ms. Carrera, Emily has really made remarkable progress already. To be where she is now, after being comatose for three years, it shouldn't be looked at lightly. What you're looking at now, is as close to a medical miracle as you and I will ever see," he said, speaking as patiently and knowingly as any sage.

"I understand that I do, it's just...one of the Bureau's best negotiator's shouldn't lose that talent because of a stupid, preventable accident. It's not right," Cheryl said, still watching the couple inside the room.

"Oh, is that what troubles you so much? You feel responsible, don't you?"

"I should have had that damn house checked before we set up there. I shouldn't have let them set-up in a house still under construction," she finally admitted the guilt she'd carried since that day.

She was the boss, it was her job to make sure everybody was safe. It was her responsibility to say no to her negotiator's less intelligent decisions. Working in an unfinished and untested house, she should have said no to that. It was a bad idea, it was dangerous, but they had a crisis and as usual were in a rush, so she'd okayed it. It was easier to just go there, and than invade some family's home. She'd spent the last three years cursing the Bureau's mechanics, who had had the bus that day for repairs.

"Ms. Carrera hindsight is a bitch. My advice to you, is simply to forget that house, and be thankful she's still with us."

Cheryl nodded, finally taking her eyes away from her friends, and looking again at the doctor. Then she knocked on the door, and together they entered the room.

"Hey Emily, how are you?" She greeted her friend.

"Tired of this hospital," Emily answered, causing them all to laugh.

"Two, maybe three more weeks of intense therapy, Emily, and then we'll talk about letting go home," Dr. Edwin assured her.

"I've already been here a month, and you want me for two or three more weeks?" She asked miserably.

"You've made incredible progress, but you only woke from a three year nap four weeks ago. You need to move back into your life slowly, Emily."

"I know, I know."

"Well, I just came by to let you know that all your therapists say you're doing very well, and Shelly and Ben want to start you on swimming tomorrow, so you'll see them both tomorrow morning and afternoon," he said smiling.

"Are they going to make me wear arm floaties with cookie monster on them?" Emily asked sarcastically.

"No, we were thinking Rainbow Bright floaties," he commented, laughing and leaving.

Emily just rolled her eyes. She felt like a child, and she hated it.

"I'd wear cookie monster floaties," Matt suddenly said.

"Oh, would you now?" Emily turned to him, Cheryl giggling nearby.

"Sure, I don't think I'd look as good in Rainbow Bright," Matt said, and shrugged.

Emily stared at him a minute, and then just started laughing.

Cheryl smiled at them. It was still a little hard to believe Emily was really there with them again after so long. If Matt didn't look so damn happy all the time now, she might not believe it at all.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Emily laid curled in her bed, with the curtains drawn tightly closed and the lights off. She had her first of what would likely be many painful migraines. Dr. Wyatt was surprised she'd gone so long without them, but that was over now. It felt like someone was trying very hard to split her skull open, her head throbbed so badly. She felt nauseous, and everything was either too loud or too bright.

She'd shooed the nurses out a few times already. They were trying to be helpful, trying to help her get comfortable, but it wasn't working. They'd given her a pill to take, but she was still waiting for it to kick in. For now, she settled for hiding under the covers, with her arms wrapped around her stomach, and her knees drawn up to her chest.

Matt was still in the room, being as silent and still as he could manage. He didn't want to aggravate her sensitive condition, and didn't know what to do to help her. That meant he'd just sit still. She'd been sending everyone out, unless they had drugs to make her feel better. She'd let that nurse come in, the rest she was not-so-politely demanding they leave. She'd hadn't told Matt to go yet, and it didn't feel right to leave while she was feeling so bad, so he stayed.

Suddenly, he saw red curls start to peak out from underneath the blanket, followed by two tired, weary eyes. Emily's eyes traveled silently around until they landed on his, and she shifted her blanket enough to reach a hand out toward him. Matt took her hand, and was about to kiss it, when she tugged against him. She was still holding onto his hand though, so he leaned down close to her face, silently asking what she needed. Emily lifted the blanket, and pulled on his hand, bringing him closer.

"I don't think the nurses would like that, Em," he whispered softly.

"I don't care," she said unhappily, and not quietly enough. She winced.

"Alright," he said quietly, pulling off his shoes.

Emily shimmied over to the other side of the bed, still largely hidden beneath the covers. Sure, she felt a little pathetic, a little needy, but it was worth it. When he climbed in behind her, and wrapped his body around hers, this warmth flowed over her. Unlike so many other men she'd dated, being wrapped tightly in Matt's arms felt safe, not claustrophobic. Not the he'd defend her to his death kind of safe, but the he'd love her no matter what happened kind of safe.

Emily wrapped her arm over his, pulling it tighter against her, plastering their bodies together. She felt his breath blow warm against her neck, as Matt nuzzled into her. She knew he'd be wrapped around her as she fell asleep, and when she woke up, he'd still be there, holding her as tightly as she needed. Matt was the one person in the world who could give that to her, the one person she'd let close enough.

But Emily gave Matt something too. Everyday she was awake and getting better, she gave him hope, and he held on to that as desperately as she held onto him.

* * *

_I reiterate, do to a wedding, US election mania, a self-imposed deadline to finish my novel, and assorted other chaos, updates will be on hold for a couple weeks. Sorry!_

_Thank you for reading and reviewing!_


	5. Chapter 5

"Alright folks, can I just get a moment alone with Emily?" Dr. Watt asked his patient's friends, smiling.

Matt, Cheryl, Lia, and Duff shuffled out the door obediently, all also smiling, because Emily would be going home today. Six and a half weeks, she'd been at the rehabilitation center, awake and slowly getting little peices of herself back. Matt had kept his promise, and taken her for a day trip every weekend. It had been the only thing keeping her moving, the idea that she had a little freedom, and that she would have complete freedom again one day. She'd been going to Matt's apartment, and staying with him for a while. He'd put her things in storage for her, and their friends were in the process of dragging a significant portion back to his apartment.

"So Emily, how do you feel?" Dr. Wyatt asked, pleasantly.

"Great," Emily told him quickly, before biting her lip, and looking down at her hands.

"Emily?" He asked patiently.

She wanted out of the hospital and on with her life so badly, but now that it was in front of her, easier said than done. She was nervous. There would be no hospital staff around to help her if she needed it. Really, she was doing wonderfully, and didn't need full-time care, that's why he was releasing her. Still, what if, without the hospital staff constantly there, Matt realized what a big undertaking she'd become? And, if he didn't want any part of that? Sure, she knew he loved her. He'd stuck around three years while she slept, and another six weeks while she relearned to live. No one could challenge that he loved her. But love can only take you so far, especially since she wasn't the same person he'd fallen in love with.

Especially, when Emily hadn't said those words to him since she'd woken up. She didn't know if she loved him, hell, she barely knew who she was still. She knew that she had loved him, very much, really more than she'd ever loved anyone. She wasn't sure what she felt now though, except that she felt safe with him and loved by him. Emily certainly cared about him, and for him, but loved him? How can you say you love someone, when you feel so unlike yourself, you don't feel like who you're supposed to be? How could Emily tell Matt she loved him, when she felt so out of place all the time?

"I'm nervous," she finally told her doctor.

"It's perfectly normal to be nervous leaving the hospital," he told her.

"When is everything going to feel right again?" She asked suddenly.

"Things are never going to be the way the were before the accident, Emily," Wyatt said softly.

"I know that, I just...I want to stop feeling like I don't belong in my own skin," she said.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, you're just going home now. You'll integrate back into your life, just give it time," he assured her.

Emily just nodded.

"So, I just want to be clear here. You're comfortable leaving the hospital?" He asked.

"Yes, I can't wait to get out," Emily said, sounding a little happier.

"And, you're comfortable staying with Matt for a while?" Wyatt continued.

"Yes, why?" She asked, puzzled.

"I just wanted to make sure. I don't want to send one of my patients into a situation they aren't comfortable in," he explained.

"No, I'm eager to get out of here, and Matt...he's been wonderful." Emily smiled softly. She was freaked out in general, but she'd rather go home with Matt than anyone else.

"Alright, then you just have to sign this and this," he said handing her two pages and watching her sign them in her still shaky writing.

She didn't have to use the giant therapy pen anymore to write, but it was still a bit of a challege. She scribbled out her name, dated the signature, and handed the papers back to Dr. Wyatt.

"Here is a small supply of Fiorinal with Codeine for your migraines. You remember everything I told you?" He asked.

"Yes, take it only when I need it, do not exceed the recommended dose, codeine is an opiate, highly addictive," Emily rattled off what he'd told her when he'd given her the medication the first time.

"I hope in a couple of months, I can put you on regular Fiorinal, without the codeine," Wyatt said. "You know all your appointment times?"

"Yes, you every two weeks, both physical therapists once a week, the shrink once a week," Emily again rattled off, impatient to leave.

"Yes, Dr. Calloway gave you a supply of your meds?"

Emily held up a bottle of Paxil, the anti-anxiety drug the pyschiatrist had her taking every night before bed, since it made her sleepy.

"You are free to go, Emily," Wyatt finally said, gesturing with a hand toward the door.

He was proud of her, she'd worked hard, and was damn near a miracle. He knew he'd never seen anything quite so impressive again in his career. It was a little bittersweet watching one of modern medicine's rare wonders walk out of his hospital.

"Thank you," Emily said softly, looking straight into his eyes, sincerity clear in her own.

He followed her out the door to her friends, Emily carrying her own bag of clothing, which Matt promptly insisted on taking for her.

Sure, she could do it herself, but he was a little nervous too, and feeling useful helped combat that. The woman he'd loved for years was finally coming home, but things couldn't just go back to the way they were. Their lives had changed, and though Matt still loved her, he wasn't quite sure what to do now. In some ways she still felt like a stranger, but in certain moments he'd catch a look in her eyes that would send him back four years.

* * *

"So, here's the guest room. Cheryl and Lia already deposited most of your clothes from storage into the dresser and closest. They're with the guys now, hauling some of your other stuff over here from storage. Uh, they got you shampoos and soaps and make-up and you know female things, most of that's in the bathroom. I guess, I'll let you get settled in here. I'll order in some Chinese, you have any requests?" Matt asked quickly, nerves rattling through his body.

"Something spicy?" Emily suggested. After the hospital she needed flavor badly.

"I can arrange that," Matt grinned, walking toward the door, and turning back to say, "let me know if you need anything."

Emily nodded silently, already hating the awkwardness that seemed to surround them the moment they walked out of the hospital.

After Matt left her alone in his spare bedroom, Emily fell onto the bed and surveyed the room. It was homey and clean, and Matt obviously wanted her to be as comfortable as possible. It made her feel incredibly uncomfortable though.

Matt lived in the same apartment he had three years ago, and apartment Emily had spent countless nights in. She was comfortable in the apartment, it was a second home really. It wasn't the apartment that seemed so weird, it was the spare bedroom. In all those nights she spent there, she never spent one in this bedroom, she was always in Matt's room, in Matt's bed. Why wouldn't she have been?

That's what was felt so odd to her. To Emily, it was only a few months ago that she was sharing a bed with Matt. Sure a lot had changed, and she was still getting herself back, but she didn't plan on resuming sex imediately. She just slept better with Matt beside her. Before her accidet, they'd been so intimate with each other, that now, it was weird to not be intimate with each other.

Emily sighed. Things would get better, they had to, she'd just keep telling herself that.

* * *

Hours later, Emily was sitting in Matt's living room, boxes on either side of her, massive psych textbook in her hands. Matt had evidently kept all her books and stored them with her other things in a rented storage space. Frank had come in earlier, bitching and moaning about carting around boxes of bricks. Emily rolled her eyes at him; these were the same books she'd dragged around during four years of grad school.

"Fine something good there?" the HRT agent asked, sitting on the chair beside her after they'd all enjoyed a dinner of Chinese food.

"I feel like I'm studying for finals again," Emily said, looking up from the heavy book.

"Does it at least make sense?" He asked.

"More than it did. Some of the concepts and conclusions still aren't clicking, but I'm not completely lost like I was," she sighed.

"I know you've heard this eight hundred times already, but give yourself time, Emily," he said gently.

"It's been months, Frank. I want my life back."

Frank didn't quite know what to say. Emily looked lost, as if she'd found herself in a very foriegn place. He knew that right now, that wasn't too far off for her. He was glad that Matt had pretty much attached himself to her, at least she could lean on him for support.

"I know this is hard for you now, but just try and remember something for me, okay?" He asked her patiently.

Emily nodded, still looking disheartened.

"Just in this apartment tonight, there's a bunch of people who're thrilled to pieces that you're okay. We'll take you anyway we can get you, Lehman," he told her with a grin. He didn't mention that Matt looked more alive now than he had in the last three years combined.

"Thanks Frank," she said, sad smile on her face. She knew she should be thankful that she did wake up, that she has so much support, but she just wanted things to go back to the way they were.

* * *

Later that night, Emily was laying in bed unable to sleep. It had been a nice evening, with their friends talking and laughing, celebrating that she was home. Matt had found a painfully spicy chinese dish that she devoured happily, before attacking a piece of bread to put out the fire in her mouth. Once gathered in the living room, they'd found her high school yearbook among the boxes, and made fun of her large eighties hair. It was the early nineties, but anyone who saw the early nineties knows people had trouble giving up the eighties.

After the long day, she figured it would be easy to fall asleep, but she just couldn't get her eyes to close. Emily was used to the lights and noise of the hospital, but that wasn't the only reason she couldn't sleep. She wasn't comfortable in the room; hell, sometimes she didn't feel comfortable in her own skin. Emily knew what she wanted now though. He was just down the hall, and had an uncanny ability to help her relax.

The few nights she'd shared a bed with Matt had felt so right to her, that it had been hard to get back to sleeping by herself the night after. In her mind it hadn't been three years since they'd fallen asleep curled together; it had been months, just a few months. No, she wasn't ready to get back to their sexual relationship, but she did want desperately to have him beside her.

Emily had a sudden thought. She was being silly, Matt was feet away from her, and there were no nurses to scold them. But, would he mind a late night visitor? He'd slept beside her before in the hospital, and that time they'd fallen asleep here, so she didn't think he would. God, it was so frustrating. It shouldn't feel so weird, so awkward with Matt, they'd been dating for over a year.

To hell with it, she thought, throwing the covers off, and climbing out of bed. Emily walked quietly three yards down the hallway to Matt's bedroom. His door was open slightly, so she pushed it gently open enough to see in. He was sleeping in the middle of the bed, half on his stomach, half on his side. Emily walked over to the bed, stubbing her toe in the dark and cursing a little too loudly.

Matt stirred and woke, leaning up, and looking around in sleepy confusion. He settled on her as she came to stand beside the bed, and let the sleepiness wash off him. She stood there biting her lip, as if she'd never stopped three years ago.

"Hey, everything okay?" He asked her softly.

"Yeah...just lonely," Emily whispered.

Matt turned completely on his side, and lifted up the blankets, inviting her in. She climbed into the bed, and turned on her side with her back facing him. Simultaneously, they shimmied toward each other, and melded together. With an arm wrapped tigthly around her, Matt leaned close and whispered in her ear.

"I still love you, Em. I never stopped."

Emily wasn't ready to say it back, not yet. Instead she shifted closer to him and pulled his arm tighter around her body.

* * *

_Sorry I disappeared again. This month has been busy for me, but I'm going to try to update both stories next week. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Matt watched his partner walking pace back and forth, speaking very forcefully into her mouthpiece. Schizophrenics were not easy people to talk down, they didn't respond to logic or emotional pleas if they weren't on their medication. Usually HRT went in to disarm them, often aggravated the HT's paranoid delusions, and left them feeling like assholes because they couldn't help them. But Emily, as determined as ever, was wracking her brain for solutions. _

_She paced and talked, paced and talked, paced, paced, paced back and forth over the same four feet. Matt heard a funny cracking, popping noise, and looked around. Then he heard it again, louder this time, coming from right where Emily was walking, but she didn't notice. She had paused in her pacing, and was talking with her hands, mouth moving quickly, struggling to break through to the elderly HT. _

_Emily began walking again, not noticing the floor creak beneath her. Matt shrugged and didn't think much of it, the house wasn't done yet, noisy floors weren't a shock. But then he heard the cracking noise again, right below Emily's feet. He watched the spot, her feet moving off of it, then walking back over it, going off again. He watched one of Emily's boots land back on it for barely milliseconds before the floor gave under her. _

_Matt watched his girlfriend plummet wide-eyed out of sight, and heard her land with a wet thud. He ran over to the newly formed hole, Cheryl right behind him, and peered down. Emily lay on her side, legs bent awkwardly, arms useless in front of her, and red liquid already seeping from beneath her head. Matt shouted to her desperately, knowing she wasn't going to answer. Only Cheryl's arms restraining him stopped him from jumping in after her. _

_He was in a hospital, waiting on the ER doctor and the neurologist he'd paged, as they examined Emily. CTs, MRIs, EEGs, they seemed to have given her every test over the almost full day he'd been waiting. Cheryl was slumped asleep beside him, and Lia beside her. The guys were feeling restless and went to get coffee. Then the doctors finally appeared outside Emily's room, talking solemnly with each other._

_Traumatic Brain Injury. Coma. Days. Months. Years. Unpredictable. May never wake up. _

_That's all that broke through Matt's head in the twenty minute speech the doctors gave him. Two strange men had just told him that his girlfriend's brain bounced around her skull, and she might never wake up because it was so damaged. Because of a stupid accident. _

_Matt broke._

_He cried. No, he sobbed. He sobbed because he might never speak to Emily again--the woman he loved. He cried because Emily deserved more time to live than she'd been given. Matt fell apart in that hospital waiting room, because the world suddenly seemed a much darker place._

He woke up with his heart thudding in his throat, and body swept by a damp chill.

He turned over to his other side, and felt his body relax at the sight of the redhead still sleeping in his bed. Emily was on her side, facing him, her arms pulled tight to her chest, breathing steadily. She'd been sleeping in his bed for almost two months now, since she'd come in that first night she'd stayed in his apartment. Matt was on cloud nine just having her back beside him, in his arms, with no nurses or doctors to scold them for being naughty.

He shifted closer to Emily, bringing a hand up to her head, brushing it down her curls. Matt let his fingers get lost in her soft hair, enjoying the feel of her messy ringlets. Thank god it was a Saturday. He really did not want to move from his bed right then, rather he just wanted to spend all day lying there with Emily in his arms. He'd admit that sleeping beside her every night, and not making love to her was becoming a bit difficult. He was a man, he had needs, and god knows, with Emily nearby his libido was even more active. But, until she was ready, he'd suffer through it.

Emily stirred. At the feel of someone's hands in her hair, she began to slowly come out of sleep. She blinked her eyes open to see a very contented Matt watching her. She smiled at him, leaned up, and pressed her lips to his in a deep, heady kiss. Matt wrapped his arms around her, pushing the intensity of the kiss. They were comfortable kissing, even really intense kissing, since they'd started sharing kisses while she was still in the hospital.

Matt's enthusiasm for Emily became quite apparent when the front of her cotton pajamas rubbed against a highly sensitive area, covered only by his boxers. He inhaled sharply, pulling away from Emily, and she looked away shyly, feeling him pressed hard against her. Shy wasn't really her thing, but well, they were still being careful of each other. Matt shifted away so his enthusiasm was no longer pressing against her, and sat up, breathing heavily.

Emily sighed. "I feel like a virgin. I'm not sure how far we should go."

Matt laughed. "We've already broken all those rules...really, it's however far you're comfortable with, Em."

She just looked at him. It wasn't the sex that left her conflicted, and scared her. It was what the sex would mean. If he had been John Doe from the bar down the street, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but this was Matt. If she had sex with him, she was telling him that they were an item again. She was telling him that she was healthy enough, that she was herself enough, to be with him again.

The last two months had gone pretty well in her mind. Her shrink was happy with her, her physical therapists were thrilled, and Wyatt was still looking at her like she was the eighth wonder of the world. He even asked her to write an article about her for a medical journal. She could swim a few laps now, at least if she stretched first. Her handwriting was actually legible, and one of LA's profilers was helping her relearn all her psych material. Terrance was very patient with her, and didn't mind helping at all. And, Matt was still running crisis scenarios with her, and mock interrogations.

The best part though, was that they'd started dating again, and things were going well. Emily didn't feel like such an invalid now, so it was easier to feel more like his equal and less like a burden. The woman he'd fallen in love with was his equal. She was strong, independent, smart, stubborn, confident, and loved to challenge him. Emily couldn't give him the relationship he deserved until she felt like that woman again. She certainly hadn't felt very confident since she'd woken up.

"Flannery," Matt answered his screaming cell phone. Emily turned toward him, watching him talk.

"Why am I on call?" He moaned unhappily.

"I know, it feels like I was just oncall...yeah, I'm on my way," he answered, finally hanging up.

"Cheryl?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, guy took a law office hostage," Matt said, turning toward her.

"On a Saturday?"

"I guess it's a very diligent law office. I'm going to grab a quick shower and run out. We'll talk later?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah, don't worry," she said, leaning up and giving him a last kiss before he ran off.

At least that was one thing Emily wasn't conflicted about--she definitely enjoyed kissing Matt. She could still taste him on her lips. Oh yeah, that was a much savored pastime.

* * *

"Hey Lia," Emily greeted later that morning. She stood in the living room working on the yoga stretches her physical therapists insisted she do everyday; she'd stuck a little speaker in her ear, and called Lia for girltalk.

"Hey, yours head off to the crazy at the law office too?" Lia asked her less than cheerfully.

"Yeah, he left about twenty minutes ago. How are you feeling?" She asked. It had been a bit awkward between them early on. The last time Emily had seen Lia, they were chatting about guys, and she was playing hard to get with Duff. Suddenly, her friend was married and pregnant; it was hard to adjust to.

"Miserable. The hormones are driving me crazy. I started sobbing hysterically when Duff left this morning, because I didn't want to be alone. And, that wasn't the first time," she mumbled. The perky tech was thrilled her friend was back in her life, even though it was a little weird, since Emily wasn't quite the same person.

"Sorry to hear that. Do you need some company?"

"I always welcome company, but no, not today. I have to go baby shopping with Duff's mom and sister."

"You sound less than enthusiastic about that?" Emily asked.

"His mother is a shrieked, about everything, and Gina, his sister...well, everything she owns is part spandex and a size too small," Lia explained. She liked her sister-in-law, but didn't trust her to buy clothes for her future children.

"Sounds like fun," Emily grinned.

"I wish Cheryl would let me work weekends." The SAC had insisted that Lia wasn't working weekends while she was pregnant, especially now that she was at 26 weeks. "How are you though?"

"Confused, as usual," Emily answered, sounding as unenthusiastic as Lia.

"Something in particular bothering you?"

"I...I don't know...it's just...we got a little frisky this morning, and I wanted more, I think. Matt uh, well it became obvious that he wanted more, and I got nervous. Lia, I haven't been nervous about sex since I was in college," she finally unloaded.

"The world isn't going to end if you have sex with him, Emily. Even if you find afterward that maybe you weren't ready yet, you can just talk to him about it. Your problem isn't that you're confused, it's that all the confidence you used to have is gone," Lia said sadly.

"It's not just that, Lia. I care about Matt a lot, but I'm afraid that I feel what I feel about him because he's been so wonderful helping me. I don't...I don't know what I would have done, if he wasn't around when I woke up," Emily confessed uneasily.

"I can understand that, I know it was very hard on you when you started waking up, but I don't think that's true, what you said about how you feel about him. You loved him before the accident, why wouldn't you love him for the same reasons now?"

"Because we're different people now. Before the accident...I don't know..." Emily trailed off miserably.

Lia frowned on her end of the phone line, and contemplated her friend's problem for a minute. Realization hit her like a sack of bricks.

"Emily, Emily, Emily," she sighed.

"What?" Emily frowned puzzled.

"I'm going to fill in your sentence there. Before the accident, you were fiercely independent and stubborn as hell about maintaining that. Now, you've been forced not to be; you've depended heavily on Matt, and that scares the hell out of you, doesn't it?" Lia demanded.

"Obviously, not now, I'm dealing with it," Emily insisted.

"No, I mean the thought of depending on Matt, and then giving yourself back to him, romantically that is...that scares the piss out of you," Lia said.

Emily went silent, and then sighed. "This, this is why I call you. Cheryl and I are way too similar to diagnose each other's issues."

"So, does that mean you're going to reacquaint yourself with the jackhammer soon?" Lia grinned.

"Lia!" Emily admonished her.

The tech giggled. "Seriously Emily, stop thinking a little bit. You love him, that's what matters, not specifically why you do."

"You're right. I know that, I just have to feel it."

"Shit, that was a knock, I have to run. Take it easy, Em," she said quickly in response to the thumping on her door.

"I will...and Lia?" Emily suddenly asked.

"Yeah?"

"That baby is lucky."

"Thanks," Lia answered, slowing down the slightest bit.

Emily smiled and hung up the phone. She felt better than she had before she called Lia, and she was thankful for her friend. She meant what she said, that little baby was lucky for who it was being born to.

* * *

_Sorry, this wasn't proofread to well, I wanted to get it up before I went on vacation. Thanks for reading, and thank you for reviewing the last chapter...I felt like I was fizzling out a little on this story, it's nice to know, I'm not. Thanks!_

_Anyone else wondering if maybe now that Rosemarie DeWitt is getting Oscar buzz for Rachel Getting Married (very good film, see it!), that maybe Fox will actually give us DVDs?_ _I can dream, right?_


	7. Chapter 7

Two weeks after her phone conversation with Lia, Emily was standing in an LA park not far from Matt's apartment, staring at the pathway in front of her. Her top row of teeth were in her lip as she considered that pathway, and wondered if she could actually do what she was going to try to do.

Her sneakers were laced up, and she'd already stretched. All she had to do was start jogging. But if she started, and had to stop after only a twenty or thirty minutes, would she be able to try again? Or would she be so discouraged that she'd just give up?

Emily shook her head, and started to walk down the path. Then she began jogging. That was okay, she could do that, she'd jogged in her physical therapy classes. She passed trees and picnic tables at a comfortable speed, and runners with MP3 players whizzed by her in both directions. Show-offs, she thought, pressing forward, jealous at their confidence, at their able bodies.

She was comfortable at the speed she was at, but she shouldn't be comfortable. She needed to push herself, if she couldn't do this, what the hell could she do? If she couldn't do this, she'd never be Bureau again. If she couldn't manage to run through this park, she would never feel confident enough to be with Matt again.

To hell with this. Emily forced a burst of speed into her steps, and pushed her body into a run. It wasn't a very fast run, but it was more than a jog. It was the most she'd done since before the accident.

She wasn't just passing trees now, she was speeding by them. At least, that was how it seemed to her; to someone else it might not have been much. To Emily, the wind tossing her hair, and whipping along her cheeks was freedom. Her feet flying, her heart racing, it was more than just moving fast. It meant she wasn't an invalid, she wasn't handicapped, and she could be whole again.

No, she was whole again.

She began to perspire more, and the slick sweat matted her hair to her head. The back of her shirt was damp, and pulling wear it was stuck to her skin. It felt like someone has just removed chains from around her body, and she was suddenly walking without them. Emily obviously wasn't a hundred percent yet, for the first time, she felt like she could get there.

She slowed back to a jog where she'd started off, beside the shady little alcove she and Matt liked to frequent. Emily walked out onto the grass, walking in place a bit to ensure she cooled down before stopping. She sat in the grass, and leaned against their tree, still breathing heavily, brushing her sticky wet hair off her face.

She'd really done it. She ran, and not just for a few minutes. She'd run for almost an hour, and made it around the park. It was hard, but she managed it. Emily smiled, and then laughed.

She felt damn good.

* * *

"Em?" Matt walked into his apartment, looking around for her. Work had been a snore today, and he was eager to see her.

"Hey, how was work?" She smiled, walking out of the bedroom, and right into his arms, kissing him passionately.

"Very dull, no cases. I did think up a knew crisis scenario to run you through if you're up for it." He stood with his arms around her, surprised she had pulled away yet.

"Mmm, I don't really feel like mock negotiating now. I had something else in mind," Emily purred into his ear.

It took a minute, but Matt caught on, and his eyes grew enormous when he did.

"Wait, are you ready for that?"

"Yep, I feel like I'm ready for anything right now." She grinned.

"Okay…uh, what did you do today?" Matt frowned in concern. She was behaving more like Emily pre-accident, than the new Emily he'd gotten used to.

"I ran through the park," she said, nonchalantly.

"Good weather for it—wait, you ran? Like ran-ran?"

"Legs were pumping full speed, and I made it all the way through the park."

"Really? That's great, Em!" He pressed his lips to hers, celebrating with a little tonsil hockey.

"Yes, I'm very happy, but as I said, I want try out a different sort of exercise."

"You're sure you're ready for this?"

"I wouldn't suggest it if I wasn't," she assured him.

Matt nodded, and pulled back from her, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom. Truth be told, he was a little nervous. For one thing, he'd been dreaming about being with her again for years, and well, that's a lot of expectation. For another, Emily hadn't had sex for over three years, which meant he'd have to be very gentle with her, if he didn't want to hurt her. When he wanted her as badly as he did then, that wasn't going to be easy.

They sat on the edge of the bed, barely inches apart, and Matt ran his hand up the back of her tank top. Their kissing was hot and heavy, but their hands were nervous and awkward. Emily felt like she was sixteen again, and didn't know what she was doing. Matt, on the other hand, knew what to do, but was just too nervous and protective of Emily to do it.

After ten minutes of acting like awkward teenagers, Emily had enough, and decided to just go for what she wanted. In one, not entirely smooth move, she pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him. She didn't let Matt recover at all, but kept right on going, working the button on his jeans.

It wasn't long before Matt caught up, and Emily was on her back, writhing as he kissed along her breasts. He moved up toward her neck, placing delicate little kisses along her soft skin, smiling when she made the same small noises she always had. Some things evidently don't change with time. He moved his hand between her legs, and worked her delicately with his fingers, until he was satisfied that she was ready.

He entered her slowly, relieved when she moaned and gasped, but didn't cry out. Matt had been dreaming of making love to her again for years, and it was almost overwhelming for him now. He hadn't been celibate for the three years she was comatose, but with Emily it was different. With Emily, everything had always been different, and it still felt that way. Even climaxing with Emily was different, and the only thing he could figure, corny or no, was that it was love.

They cried out together, and then laid side by side, breathing heavily. Emily's whole body was trembling with the experience. It had only been months since Emily had sex, at least in her mind. The electric tingle in her body knew the truth though, and she wondered if she'd have had that tingle with anyone besides Matt. She didn't think so. She was a little sore now, but god, it had felt so good, the soreness was well worth it. And, if she had any say about it, her body was going to adapt quickly.

"Hey, you okay?" Matt turned on his side, and studied her.

"I'm wonderful," she smiled lazily, turning to face him.

"Glad to hear it, I was afraid I'd hurt you."

"I'm a little sore, but I don't mind." She kissed him deeply, even though they were both still catching their breath.

Matt scooped her into his arms at the exact minute the phone rang, followed by two annoyed sighs. Neither wanted to answer it, but one glance at the caller ID said it was Cheryl.

"I was just on call, I wasn't supposed to be on tonight," Matt groaned to his boss and good friend.

"Hi to you to. You aren't on call, Temple and Binder are taking the call, I just thought you might like to bring Emily along, let her sit in on a negotiation."

"Really?"

"If she's up for it. She won't be negotiating, but I'd like to see how she follows it." Cheryl knew she'd never again have the best team in the Bureau, she couldn't partner them again, but she could still have two of the best negotiators in the Bureau.

"Hang on." Matt covered the phone with a hand, and turned to his curious girlfriend.

"You feel like watching Temple and Binder negotiate?"

"What?" Emily was already biting her lip.

"Cheryl wants to see you at a negotiation scene, you up for it?"

Emily started at him, the wheels in her head already turning, the nerves in her lip not yet objecting to her harsh teeth. Finally, she nodded.

Matt turned back to Cheryl with one question, "where's the scene?"

* * *

"Alright we have a twelve year-old girl with a gun on her aunt and uncle. As of now, we don't know what set her off. Her parents died in a car accident when she was eight, and she's been living with her aunt and uncle ever since. LAPD has informed us that there have been complaints from neighbors of yelling and crying, and one of the girl's teachers reported suspicions of child abuse, but couldn't prove anything. We need to talk this child down at any cost. According to our bosses, shooting a child would be bad press." Cheryl rolled her eyes at that. As if they didn't already know that?

"Hey, hey, look who's here." Frank gestured to Matt and Emily, who were approaching the command post.

"They're here to observe, at least Emily is, and Matt…well, they come as a pair." Cheryl said with a half-shrug.

"Cute." Frank grinned. It had been a while since he could be amused and enjoy a chance to tease the couple.

"So, HT's a kid?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, hang on—Temple, Binder, who's primary?" She turned to her team.

"I am," Temple answer, Binder nodding beside him.

"Make contact, and make it gently, this is a little girl," Cheryl instructed, before motioning Matt and Emily a few feet away. She explained the situation, and directed them back toward the command post, turning on the feed so they could all hear.

Emily swallowed and dug her front teeth into her bottom lip. Joe was talking to a young girl, asking her to tell him if her aunt and uncle were alright. They were fine.

Was the gun her uncles? No, her aunt's, she liked to target shoot, her dad taught her how.

Did she really want to kill her aunt and uncle? An outraged no, followed by a proclamation that she didn't want to hurt anyone.

Then why the gun? The young girl went silence.

"Lisa, you have to talk to me. That's how this works, I need to hear your voice," Joe told the girl.

"I don't want to hurt them," she finally said, her voice thick with tears. "I just want them to stop."

"Stop what, Lisa?"

"I just need them to stop, I can't take it anymore!" She full on crying now, near hysterical.

"Stop what, what are they doing, Lisa?"

"Depends on the day. Uncle Kurt likes to use his belt a lot, but some times, it's just easier to use his hand, or toss me around. Aunt May uses pans, especially after they've been on the stove, or a hairbrush." Lisa Meyer sobbed as she spoke, and Emily could almost picture the girl's hand shaking.

"We can make it stop, we can remove you from their care."

"Child's Services has come by, they just say I'm clumsy, and that I lie for attention, that I haven't been right in the head since my parent's died. The people always believe them."

"Well, we know the truth now. You come out of there, we'll make sure your aunt and uncle can't touch you anymore."

"You'll put me in Juvy for a few months, and then they'll send me back."

"Yeah, you might go to Juvy for a while, and they'll start you in counseling, but when they release you, you'll go to a foster home."

"I don't believe you. They'll send me back here."

"Do you know what allocution is, Lisa?" Joe asked, running a hand through his hair. This was turning out to be harder than he expected.

"No, I've never heard of it, but it doesn't sound good," she snifled.

"You allocute when you plea to a crime, and describe your participation in it, you admit guilt."

Lisa didn't comment.

"When you walk out of there, and drop that gun, we book you. You go to kiddie court, and you plea guilty, you get to tell the court all about your crime. It will be on record that your aunt and uncle abuse you."

"So? People have complained about me screaming and crying, and nobody cared. Why would they care what I say? Why would they believe me?"

"Lisa--" Joe started.

"No, I don't want to talk anymore," she insisted, a click leaving a defining silence where their conversation had been.

"Alright Cheryl, I'll admit, preteen girls are not my strong suit," Joe turned to her. Tom Binder agreed with a nod.

"Well, today they have to be. Figure it out." The two men turned back to toward the unimposing little house, without a clue. They each had a daughter, but their girls were much younger. No one ever told them that they had to know twelve year-old girls to be negotiators.

Emily was thinking, nibbling on her lip. When you feel like you've lost all hope, and you're as desperate as a person can be, what do you do? She'd felt hopeless and desperate not that long ago, what got her through? She could barely talk, peed on herself on occasion, had to be fed like a baby…if she'd had the dexterity to use a gun or a knife, or open a bottle of pills, she'd might have ended it. What got her through that hell?

Her mind drifted to the bathtub in the hospital. The water was getting cold, no one was coming to help her out, and she couldn't do it herself. Then there were brown eyes, a warm body, and strong arms holding her and helping her into a robe. Sanctuary. One place were she felt secure and loved, not the miserable mess she knew she was. That was what got her through, and that thought hit her hard.

"Who are her friends?" Emily blurted, startling Matt and Cheryl.

"What's that?" Cheryl asked.

"Her friends—no her best friend. Who's her best friend?" Emily's pulse jumped. The girl was too young for a boyfriend, but she probably still had a best friend.

"Uh, hang on." Cheryl flipped through the information that gotten from her teachers. Abuse, shy, quiet, smart, good student, but nothing on Lisa's friends.

"What school does she attend?" Emily asked, already pulling out her cell.

"PS 243, here the number."

Emily took the paper, and punched the number in, but froze before she hit send.

"What's wrong?" Matt frowned at her.

"I'm not FBI. I can't make the call."

"They don't need to know that. You have a hunch, just play it, I'll take the heat, if there's any."

"Cheryl, I can't—"

"Make the call."

Emily stared at her a moment, and then finally hit send. Cheryl was using that voice, her boss voice, the voice you don't say no to.

"PS 243," a voice answered.

"Hello, I with for the FBI in hostage negotiation, and I'm at the scene with one of your students." So it was technically a lie, but this woman didn't have to know that.

"Lisa Meyer, we heard, you all already called and talked to her teachers," the woman answered.

"Yes, well now I need to talk to her friends, do you know who they are or can you find me someone who does?"

"I don't know, the kids are all long gone for the day, and I don't know if we can give you their names or numbers. Let me put you on hold a minute, what's your name?"

"Emily Lehman."

"Alright Agent Lehman, just give me a minute." Muzak blared into her ear before she could correct the woman.

"From this moment on, you're here as a consultant," Cheryl told her, after Emily explained her conversation.

"You think you can swing that with the upper-ups?" Matt asked.

"If Emily helps us get that kid out, I won't have to."

"No pressure then?" Emily smirked.

"Of course not. When is there ever pressure in our work?" Cheryl smiled. Emily almost seemed like herself again.

"So, apparently you're getting better with logic and working out problems," Matt said.

"Well, I kind of cheated this time."

"How's that?"

"I was hopeless and desperate not that long ago, but I got through it. I used that."

"Whatever works, Em."

She nodded as a voice replaced the ugly music. "Agent Lehman?"

"Yes?" She answered automatically.

"I'm Trisha Stevens, Lisa's homeroom teacher. Lisa and Tony Juarez are attached at the hip. He's small and skinny for his age, and very smart, the other boys don't really accept him. Lisa doesn't really fit in with most of the other girls, she's…the only word to describe that child is wounded. The other kids don't get that. Lisa and Tony are my misfits, and they seem to live in a world all their own."

"I need to talk to Tony urgently, do you have his home phone number?"

"Yes, I already called his parents, and asked if it was okay. His mother was reluctant, but his father said they'd bring him down to the scene. He should be there soon."

"Thank you, Ms. Stevens, we really appreciate that." Emily was taken aback, she'd have been thrilled just to have a phone conversation with the boy.

"You're welcome, and Agent Lehman? Lisa is a good kid, she just hurts so much all the time. I've tried to talk to her, but she doesn't trust many adults." The teacher sounded stricken.

"I understand, we'll do everything we can to get her out of there," Emily promised, hanging up. She turned to Matt and Cheryl.

"Lisa's best friend is on the way."

"Uh no, I think he might be here." Cheryl nodded behind them, toward a nervous couple, and scared young boy.

"Agent Lehman?" The father called uncertainly.

"I'm not an agent, I'm here as a consultant today," Emily offered shaking his hand.

"Why? Who are you?"

"A psychologist."

"Oh, then Dr. Lehman, this is Tony, you need to speak with him about Lisa?"

"Yes, are you familiar with Lisa?"

"She's been to our house for dinner many times, she and Tony are very close. She was always a polite little girl."

Emily nodded. "Do you mind if I speak with Tony?"

The man bent down to his son's level. "You tell this woman what she needs to know to help your friend, okay?"

The young boy nodded.

Emily gestured the boy with her, and the parents remained talking with Matt and Cheryl.

"So, can you tell me about Lisa?" He had dark, messy curls on his head, and light brown eyes.

"She's my friend."

"Did you know her aunt and uncle were hurting her?"

"The Gremlocks," he said.

"The what?"

"They're the Gremlocks."

"What's a gremlock?"

"Lisa and I play a fantasy game. We're the Selpeyan, good wizards, and we have to battle the Gremlocks, or we perish. They're mean, ugly beasts, and they fight dirty. We always beat them though. Evil can't beat good, it's a rule." His voice cracked, and his eyes began to tear.

Clearly in his world, the cops don't come to arrest the good wizards. They'd invented a game to help Lisa survive the abuse she took at home, a game where they beat her aunt and uncle, and the abuse stopped. It seemed Lisa was finally trying to make the game real.

"Thank you, Tony." She smiled at him. Her mind was working, for once, it was making the connections it needed to. It had been better lately, not one hundred percent, but still, pretty good.

Emily walked Tony back to his parents, and pulled Matt and Cheryl aside, gesturing Binder, and Temple, who'd just been hung up on again.

"You need to tell Lisa that you're a Selpeyan, that you'll help her defeat the Gremlocks. She has to leave the Gremlocks to you, you and your men can handle them," Emily directed.

"The what? What are you talking about?" Temple was flabbergasted.

"They're characters in the fantasy game she and her friend created to help her cope with the abuse. The Selpeyan are good wizards, the Gremlocks are her aunt and uncle, the evil characters they have to defeat. Tell her you're a, a, a…what do they call it, in games? Different levels?" She waved her hands around trying to think.

"A master?" Matt offered.

"Yes, tell Lisa you're a master Selpeyan, that you can defeat the Gremlocks. If that doesn't do enough, tell her that she's just a junior Selpeyan, that Tony, that's her best friend, needs her."

Temple and Binder looked at Cheryl uneasily. Three years ago, they'd have been on the phone doing it, but three years ago, Emily's brains hadn't been battered. It made them a little uneasy, especially since what she was saying made her sound like a schizophrenic, not a negotiator.

Cheryl stood still, thinking. From Matt, from her doctor, from Terrance, the profiler walking Emily back through her psych classes, but still, right now, she sounded like a lunatic. Cheryl sighed. No matter how badly Emily had been hurt, she'd never exhibited psychosis, and what she was saying made sense, strangely enough.

"Do it," she instructed her negotiators. They nodded still uneasily, and walked back, Temple making the phone call.

"Lisa, it's Joe. Listen, there's something I didn't tell you. Me and my partner, we're master Selpeyans, so are most of the guys out here. You're good, but you're just junior level. Leave this fight to us. We can handle those Gremlocks. You and Tony, you kids need more practice before you battle like this," Joe told her.

"They aren't real, it's just a game."

"I know that, but Lisa, you understand what I'm saying? You've done you're fighting against the Gremlocks, you let us handle them from here. Okay?"

The armed child didn't respond, but he could hear her breathing through the phone line.

"Lisa, Tony needs you. He fought Gremlocks with you, don't let him down now."

More silence. They shot looks at Cheryl and Emily, wondering if they'd made the right call.

"Okay." A small tear filled voice broke through all the tension.

Ten minutes later, the girl walked out in Franks arms, sobbing against his shoulder. She was the only HT he'd ever carried away from the scene, and the only one he'd ever not immediately handcuffed. He put her in the back of a police car, and close the door. LAPD would take her, and process her, and they had the Juvy unit's word that she'd get a social worker and counseling.

They instructed Tony and his parents come with them for additional questioning. Tony's statement would be evidence of abuse, and help ensure that Lisa would never be returned to her aunt and uncle. He clung to his mother and father, but nodded at the friendly detective his agreement to help.

"I'm not sure what the hell I said to that kid, but it worked," Temple told Emily, clearly impressed.

"She needed to hear that you see them as, as much of a threat as she does, and she needed to hear that there was someone out here that cared about her," Emily explained, relieved that her healing shrink skills were working.

"Well, it's LA and hot, who's up for celebratory ice cream?" Matt suggested. Normally he'd say drinks, but some of Emily's meds didn't mix well with alcohol.

"We all have to do paperwork," Cheryl reminded them all, gesturing to everyone except Matt and Emily.

"Right, well, have fun with that," he said, earning glares from Temple and Binder.

He chuckled and took Emily's hand, turning toward the car. They were at least going to celebrate, they certainly had enough reasons to.

"Hey Emily!" Cheryl called.

The redhead turned.

"You did good." They both smiled.

Emily knew it was all about confidence, which she'd been sorely lacking. It started with that run, and the effects of that confidence would eventually be her earning her life back.

* * *

_I know I've been saying sorry a lot lately, but it's been a hellishly busy few weeks. Consider this very long chapter my plea for forgiveness for not updating for a month. As always thank you for reading, and even if it doesn't seem that way now, reviews do encourage, motivate, and bring joy. _


End file.
